Maisy Stella and Aubrey Plaza in My Old Ass

Megan Park’s sophomore film is a considerably lighter effort than her feature directorial debut, The Fallout, which deals with a school shooting. In contrast, My Old Ass, written and directed by Park, is a coming-of-age tale with a stoner comedy soul. Set in Ontario’s cottage country, My Old Ass is centered on Elliott (Maisy Stella), college bound and spending the last of her lakeside summer sleeping with the hot barista at the marina and doing psychedelics with her best friends. It’s the mushrooms that get her in trouble.

Stella is terrific as Elliott, enough of a pain in the ass to believably portray a teenager, especially one who doesn’t know how good she’s got it, but also show hints of the woman Elliott will become. Because we actually meet future Elliott, in the form of Aubrey Plaza, as Elliott at age 39. Besides acknowledging they look nothing alike, older Elliott is well played by Aubrey Plaza. (Casting Maria Dizzia as Elliott’s mom splits the difference between the two other actors, a just convincing enough link between the older and younger versions of Elliott to sell the bit.) She’s not as dour as some of Plaza’s character, but older Elliott suggests someone who has been through enough major life events to tone down younger Elliott’s boundless energy. Clearly, Things Have Happened To Elliott, to turn her from wide-eyed, blonde-dyed Maisy Stella into quieter, brunette Aubrey Plaza.

While doing mushrooms with her friends, Elliott gets too high and somehow summons her older self to the Canadian woods (this film is SO Canadian). Much like Celine Sciamma’s Petite Maman, My Old Ass isn’t interested in the mechanics of time travel. How older Elliott gets to the woods that night doesn’t really matter. It only matters that she does, and that the two Elliotts form a connection, despite younger Elliott’s skepticism that she could ever turn out like older Elliott. Older Elliott is careful not to tell her younger self too much, lest she alter their future, but she does impart three pieces of wisdom: spend more time with your brothers, be nicer to mom, don’t date boys named Chad. 

Through a quirk of cell phones and contrivance, the two Elliotts are able to talk on the phone, too, and besides off-handedly dropping advice like “eat salmon while it’s still around”, older Elliott remains tight-lipped. She won’t explain what’s wrong with Chads, she’s just adamant that her younger self stays away from all Chads. This becomes difficult when Elliott meets a young man named Chad (Percy Hynes White), who is helping on her family’s cranberry farm for the summer. Chad is cute and sweet and funny, and he and Elliott hit it off right away, but of course, we’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. What’s wrong with Chad?!

After that initial mushroom-induced meeting, My Old Ass settles into its coming-of-age groove, as Elliott begins taking her older self’s advice. She softens toward her mom, she starts hanging out with her brothers. It’s through her golf-playing younger brother that she learns her parents are selling their farm, which means this will be her last summer there, she won’t have this place to return to. Learning to recognize and let go of “last times” is one of growing up’s most painful lessons, but at least Elliott has her older self helping her to appreciate it before it’s gone. Recognizing the inherent sadness of life and choosing joy anyway is one of My Old Ass’s central themes, which comes through beautifully as willful, boisterous Elliott refuses to give into her older self’s jaded cynicism.

“What would you say to your younger self” is a common thought experiment, and My Old Ass plays it out to a subverted conclusion—what would your younger self say to you? The timey-wimey narcotic nonsense of the film allows the two versions of Elliott to meet and tell each other about themselves, and it’s as much a transformative moment for older Elliott as it is for her younger self. Older Elliott has the wisdom to appreciate her family more, but younger Elliott still has optimism, which allows her to follow her heart, even in the face of inevitable heartbreak.

There are timeless elements of coming-of-age stories here, from the stoner comedy to Elliott picking up the hot girl at the docks. Kids are more tolerant than they were 30 years ago, when teenage comedies used “gay” as a pejorative, but those kids can still be assholes, because kids are and always have been assholes. My Old Ass isn’t shy about showing Elliott’s worse sides, but it gives her the space and grace to grow. It also has grace for her older self, who doesn’t walk away from their strange, drug-induced connection unmoved. Older Elliott has lessons to learn, too, because, hopefully, we never stop growing, even if we don’t have mushroom-inspired visions of our future selves to help us along. 

My Old Ass is now playing exclusively in theaters.